


Talk Dirty to Me

by frankenbolt



Category: Bad News (The Comic Strip Presents...), The Comic Strip Presents...
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Humiliation, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Multi, Mutual Masturbation, Period-Typical Homophobia, THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED, Wet Dream, pure filth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-21 19:36:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18146525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frankenbolt/pseuds/frankenbolt
Summary: It's a Bad News "There was Only One Bed" fic. Because obviously there should be one.





	Talk Dirty to Me

**Author's Note:**

> I want to start by saying I never intended to write this, but for some reason here we are. 
> 
> So uh. Enjoy. 
> 
> Best Enjoyed when read with Poison's "Talk Dirty to Me" played on repeat.

“Alright, where are they?”

“They aren’t coming.”

Vim choked on a cloud of smoke from the cigarette he’d only just lit up. “You what?”

“I said, Alan, they aren’t coming.” Colin repeated himself slowly, with the same effortlessly smug air he always had. Knowing that was just the way that upper-middle-class twat spoke, that he wasn’t trying to be as irritating as he appeared, did very little to quell the anger that Colin inspired in the band leader.

That is to say, just being around Colin made Vim want to shove his fist so far down his throat he could play stairway to heaven on the bassist’s spine.

“An’ why not?” Colin climbed into the back of the van, tossing his overnight bag and his bass guitar into the mess of detritus that always littered Vim’s only mode of transport.

It was a wise choice because considering that the other two members of the band were absent, it put an entire seat between Vim and himself. Colin hoped it the peace offering of giving Vim space would alleviate some of the ever present tension between them.

It didn’t work. Having Colin sat behind him only served to make Vim feel like he was the other man’s bloody driver. 

“Well, from what I understand, Spider and his Mrs have a parent teacher conference to go to-”

“You’re fucking kidding me? And he cancelled on us for that? We have a bloody gig lined up for tomorrow! This could be our big chance to redeem ourselves and that twat is playing parent of the year NOW?!” Vim nearly served into the oncoming lane so he could turn around to properly rant about their drummer and Colin had to rush to pull the wheel back just in time to avoid hitting a white van.

“IF you’d JUST let me FINISH!” Colin snapped. “There’s no need to get all arsey with me Alan-”

“-What are you on about?! This is the perfect time to get-”

“SPIDER said he’d be about an hour late, so he’s having Den drive him up afterwards.” 

“Oh.” Vim’s shoulders slumped. He took a deep drag of his cigarette and flicked it out of the driver side window. 

“If you’d just let me finish speaking once in a while you wouldn’t have to get so angry.” Colin huffed, fiddling with the heavy silver ring on his finger. 

“If you weren’t such an annoying tosser, I wouldn’t get angry, ever.”

Colin sulked, wondering why on earth he continued to play this facade of being in the band at all. He knew deep down he couldn’t play. He also knew that his day job as a bank clerk payed far better than any of the pathetic little gigs Vim “Alan” Fuego could ever book for them.

The larger always made him vomit, his wig itched and no matter how much fun putting all the make-up on was, he swore that his pores were suffering for it.

He supposed that on some level he wanted Alan to succeed.  
He tried making conversation with the blonde in the front seat, but Vim had taken to grunting or giving him one word answers to any of his questions.

Brooding, Colin lapsed into silence. He wish he’d brought a book. But then, the last time he had, he’d found it the next morning half flushed down the loo. 

Having to sheepishly explain that to the Librarian, begging them not to tear up his library card and paying an exorbitant fee had been humiliating, and not just because there’d been a couple of cute students sitting not two tables away during the entire ordeal.

They’d been a couple, he was sure of it. A pretty little dark haired woman, her hair backcombed and teased with sharp blue eyes. And a blonde man, with his shirt sleeves rolled up, strong hands wrapped around a thick old book. Both of them preppy and tidy and sweet looking and Colin couldn’t be sure which he liked the look of more.

He’d been in his drab grey suit, having come straight from the office. He was sure if he’d been in latex and pancake make up, with his wig firmly in place he would have made a move. But he just nervously watched the pair from the corner of his eye, and sheepishly hurried out after the verbal tongue lashing the Librarian gave him.

Colin shifted in his seat, facing the van window. If he’d been in full rock star mode he would have sauntered up to the table, and said something awfully clever and sexy. 

“You guys ever want to take a walk on the wild side?” No no, that’s too cliche. Trite.

Or maybe… “Ever make it with a rock star, babe?” Far more direct. Better.

The two of them would look at each other and be confused as to who he was directing the question at. And he’d smirk and flick his tongue at both of them, leaving the girl all breathless and pink and her boyfriend red in the face, forcing him to stand up from the table, ready to try and take him down- only for Colin to kiss him silly, threading his fingers through the man’s long blonde hair, the girl rising from behind to caress him over his latex covered-

“COLIN.”

“W-what?!”

“I’ve been fucking talking to you for the last quarter of an hour and you’ve not heard a bloody thing I’ve said have you?” Vim was fuming again.

Licking his lips nervously, Colin tried to cover the beginnings of a stiffy with his jacket, not that Vim could see from the front seat. “O-of course I have, I uh-”

“Oh shut up, it’s not like I wanted your opinion on the new lyrics to Excalibur or anything, christ.” Vim turned back to the road. 

“I have got some thoughts on that actually, Alan-”

“I’m not adding that bit about Arthur in, Colin, it’s crap-”

“-but you just said you wanted my opinion!”

“That was before I knew you weren’t bloody paying attention!”

They continued bickering throughout the rest of the ride, even as Colin was more than a bit preoccupied with how blonde Vim’s hair was in the dark, reflecting the sickly orange of the street lights that started flickering on, as the night fell.

\----

They’d stayed in worse places.

They’d often slept in the back of the van, complaining about the trash all over the floor, the tiger print fabric Spider and Vim had so patiently stapled along the insides heating the metal tube until they all woke up covered in larger and sweat, their skin littered with bruises because they’d all kicked and pushed each other in an attempt not to let the other band members touch them whilst they slept.

They’d stayed in friend’s bedsits and picked silverfish out of their hair in the mornings. They’d once slept backstage after a gig, afraid of getting attacked by the mob of angry music fans who’d booed them off stage.

Colin was actually happy about the place they’d been put up in this time. He quietly read over the little pamphlet they’d had at reception as he and Vim went up to their room in the lift. Privately he’d thought about waiting at reception until Den and Spider turned up, so one of them would have to share with Vim instead. 

But his choice had been made for him when he saw one of his father’s business partners in the dining room across from the reception desk. Better to escape upstairs and hide than have to deal with Daddy scolding him when he got home for wearing a wig in front of such important people.

He lingered a little behind Vim in the corridor. Let the big baby have first pick of the beds, Colin thought sourly to himself. The sooner he picked a bed, the sooner he could get into the other one, pretend to go to sleep, and sneakily try to recapture that very interesting day dream he’d been having in the van.

The sound of violent and persistent swearing coming from the room wasn’t surprising, and so Colin didn’t even bother looking up as he entered. He bumped into Vim, expecting the anger to be immediately onto him so he puffed up, ready to argue back, but Vim didn’t even turn around, the object of his anger apparently holding his full attention.

There was only one bed.

“Well that’s bloody fucking TYPICAL, isn’t it?” Vim raged. “They could have told us there was only one bed when we booked.”

“So we’ll just phone down and get a twin single, honestly Alan, it’s not a big deal.”

“It’s VIM, and how can you be so bloody calm? They must think we’re a pair of-”

“-Very progressive of them.” Colin clucked his tongue, dropping his overnight bag and Bass by the dresser, ignoring the far too dainty noise of indignant offence Vim made at his reckless lack of respect for his instrument.

Moving around Vim to flop onto the bed, Colin picked up the phone and dialed reception. “Hello? This is room 20. I believe there has been some sort of mistake. My friend ordered a double single and we’d like to be moved to a more appropriate room, as soon as possible, please.” There was a pause, and the longer Colin listened to the receptionist, the more irate he became. “Yes I-...well I realise that but…-No I don’t want-...If I could just speak to your Manager...oh you are the manager...are you absolutely positively sure theres-...FINE.”

He smacked the receiver down and flicked the vs at the phone. “Unbelievable!”

“Let me guess. There’s no more rooms left?”

“Some sort of convention’s going on. They’re fully booked.”

“What about a roll away? Surely they’ve got one of those knocking about?” 

“Apparently not.” Colin sighed and cast about the room. He really didn’t want to spend the entire night fighting. He’d been at work since 7 and at this point didn’t care where he slept. “Look, you take the bed. I’ll just...kip on the floor.”

Vim scoffed with laughter, and immediately started towards the mini fridge, pulling out the tiny bottles of booze. “A great poof like you sleepin’ on the ground? You sure your delicate fucking bones can handle it?”

Colin bristled. “I’ve done it before! When I was in the scouts-”

“You bloody kept that quiet didn’t you? Do a lot of camping, eh?” The emphasis on the word ‘camp’ wasn’t lost on Colin but he continued regardless.

“-WHEN I was in the scouts, we slept outside, on the ground in all sorts of horrid weather, so I’m sure one night on the carpet in doors isn’t going to kill me.”

Vim just snickered, and began lining the bottles up on the dresser. “Yeah, and tomorrow you’ll just complain about how sore and tired you are and blame your shitty playing on how I wasn’t kind enough to let you sleep on the bloody bed.”

Already tired with how this argument was going to play out, Colin grabbed his overnight bag and marched into the bathroom. “Just leave me a pillow and a blanket off the bed, Alan, and I’ll ruddy well manage!” He snapped the door shut behind him.

Not two minutes later, there was a knock.

“What?” 

“...So you pitch a lot of tents then?” Vim’s voice shook with barely contained glee.

“Fuck off Vim Fueeegoo.” Colin dragged his pronunciation of Vim’s ridiculous stage name out, knowing it pissed him off more than anything.

Sure enough, the door of the hotel room slammed shut.

Probably off to make an arse of himself at the bar. Well good. Colin hoped he’d stumble back upstairs and face plant into the bed and leave him alone.

...Plus this gave him a little more privacy, at least for a few hours.

 

\------

Colin had made a fairly decent bed for himself on the floor after a nice hot shower. He’d nabbed a few extra pillows from a closet out in the corridor, and when he finally lay down he found he was actually a little too tired to do much more than yank his wig off. He was asleep before he even hit the pillow.

The dream from earlier rose from his subconscious, luckily, and he found himself back in the library, sandwiched between that beautiful dark haired girl and the blonde man.

“That’s it, worship me.” Colin purred to the woman, turning from his blonde make out partner to bestow a thorough snog to her instead. Her nimble fingers still managed to unbuckle his belt, roaming up to caress his stomach and chest. He noticed a second pair of much stronger hands, rip his latex pants down to his knees, and felt rather than saw the blonde man drop down.

Colin moaned into the woman’s eager mouth as he felt the blissful sensation of the man’s tongue lathing over his cock. His hand grabbed a handful of blonde feathered hair, the resulting moan from the man travelling along the length of him and tightening the already strong arousal swirling in his system.

The woman, not to be ignored, pinched at Colin’s chest, and he drew back from the kiss to let his head drop onto her (inexplicably naked) shoulder, her breasts pressed against his back. One of those strong hands reached up to cup his balls and he finally looked down to make eye contact with the man giving him pleasure.

And if his cock hadn’t been in the man’s mouth, being suctioned just how he liked it, he would have yanked it free.

Because of course it was fucking Vim on his knees before him.

The usual glare reserved just for him was missing from the lead guitarists face. Instead there was nothing but lust and amusement in his blue eyes, and as he pulled away from his cock (leaving Colin whimpering, his hips threatening to piston forward sharply enough to delve back into the glistening warmth), Vim smacked his lips and opened his mouth to say something.

“COLIN, YOU PRICK WAKE UP.”

Sitting up with a start in his nest of pillows and blankets on the stale floor of the hotel, Colin’s eyes blearily focused on the face of Vim leering drunkenly at him in the semi-darkness. 

“...Wha..what?” Still half asleep Colin croaked.

Vim cackled, and waved a can of larger in the sleepy bassists face. “Drink with me.”

“Uh...no...thank you.”

“C’mon you wanker, get up here and drink with me.” Colin watched as Vim’s hair flopped into his face as he rolled across the bed. “Den and Spider finally turned up and we had a bit of a session in the bar. They chucked us out and I wanted to keep going but they left to go to bed, the bastards.”

“Well we do have a show tomorrow-”

“Fuuuuck, why’d we fucking becoming fucking rock stars if we can’t fuckin’ have a good time?”

“Did you swear enough just then? Or do you want to add a few more for flavour.” Colin said dryly. He rearranged his blanket more securely around his waist, hoping Vim was drunk enough not to notice his raging hard on.

Vim blinked at Colin a few more times, before grinning and leaning further into Colin’s personal space. The stench of larger on his breath was heavy, making Colin’s head spin. “Fuck.” 

A pulse of want went straight through Colin at that quietly uttered word and he was frozen still, even as Vim rolled away, giggling stupidly. 

Clearing his throat, “I don’t want a larger now, Alan.”

“So have one of these!” Vim bounded off the bed and dropped the assortment of tiny booze from the dresser onto the bed. “Have one of your girly little cocktails.”

Realizing that Vim wasn’t going to leave him alone unless he did, Colin tentatively reached up to grab one of the small bottles. He yelped in surprise as Vim took it upon himself to haul him up onto the bed with him. In his drunken state, Vim misaimed and hauled Colin up on top of him, leaving Colin precariously straddling Vim’s left leg, his unmistakable erection pressing through the fabric of his black boxers and rubbing against the rough bleached denim of Vim’s jeans.

Colin could just about have died. Any mention of homosexuality when brought up among band mates was met with disdain and hatred. His panicked mind fought to come up with some kind of excuse as to why his hard knob was pressed against his usually very prone to anger bandmate when the man in question let out a strangled hum.

Colin’s eyes darted to Vim’s face. The blonde man’s eyes were planted solely on Colin’s erection, and against all odds, an weird sort of smirk found it’s way onto his face. 

“Been pitchin’ tents again, Col?”

Colin really wanted to die now. 

“I-I...I was having a dream. Just now! Before you came in-”

“Yeah?” Vim wet his lips and fuck if Colin’s eyes didn’t follow the movement his tongue made. “What about?”

“Oh, like y-wou want to know what my dream was about?” Colin huffed, and tried to move himself off Vim’s lap, but the guitarist’s hands shot out to grasp the other man’s thighs.

“Yeah I do.” Vim grinned and squeezed Colin’s bare thighs, watching in interest as his cock jumped at the stimulation. “Looks like it was a really good one.”

“S’just. You know. Birds. Big t-titted women.” Colin tried but he gasped involuntarily when Vim’s hand slipped higher under his boxers and squeezed again. “Regular stuff…”

“Bloody liar.” Vim’s eyes were trained on Colin’s now. “Describe it to me.”

“I just-”

“Properly.” Vim’s hand left Colin’s leg and moved to his own jeans, undoing the zipper.

“W-what?” Colin watched nervously as Vim wiggled underneath him (swallowing hard to stop himself reacting to the very enjoyable movement) and pulled his jeans down enough to cup himself through the fabric of his white boxers.

“I’ve heard that other bands wank off together. Some sort of bonding thing. Makes ‘em work together better.” Vim supplied. “You and I hate each other. I bet if we wank off together we’d be better mates.”

Colin wanted to argue that they would only become better friends if Vim stopped being so unfair to him all the ruddy time, but the words got stuck in his throat as Vim impatiently led his own hand back to his now weeping erection.

“So go on. Tell me about your little wet dream, Col.”

Taking a deep surge of breath, Colin shakily moved his hand under his boxers to take hold of himself. Vim chuckled and moved to do the same, pressing his leg up harder between Colin’s legs.

“I was...at the library…”

“Trust even your wet dreams to be boring.” Vim scoffed.

Colin glared at him. “I thought you wanted to hear this?”

“Yeah yeah, go on.”

“A-and there was this bird...and her boyfriend.”

“What was she like?” Vim’s eyes bored into Colin’s. Colin daren’t look away, so the only indication of Vim enjoying himself was the steady rhythm of his shoulder as he lazily palmed himself.  
“Beautiful...big brown eyes, brown hair. Great tits.” And they had been, the gentle swell of them caressed by the rather lovely blouse she’d been wearing. He said as much, and Vim hummed again, that strange half moan that vibrated through his chest.

“How big are we talking?”

“I...not that big but...like...kind of high…” Colin’s face screwed up, the rush of blood to his cock ruining the usual plethora of descriptive words he could have used. “Perky.”

“Nice. So what were they doin’? Havin’ it off in the stacks? No wonder it got your attention. Little pervert like you wanking to a couple of prim little nerds fucking in between the shelves.”

Colin wanted to protest but all Vim had done was turn his humiliation into one more source of arousal, and his voice caught in his throat in a thick groan. He didn’t have to look to tell that Vim was smirking. The bastard.

“In my dream they weren’t...they were having it off with ME.” Colin confessed.

“Wot? Both o’ ‘em? At the same time?” Vim’s voice hitched, and his hand paused. Colin wondered if he’d ruined it somehow, but instead he found himself being manhandled into properly straddling the lead guitarist, his legs splayed over both of Vims. They were a lot closer now, and Vim rasped out “What was the bloke doing?”

The timbre of Vim’s voice shook through Colin and he desperately closed his forefinger and thumb at the base of his cock, not wanting this to be over so soon. 

“S-sucking me off.”  
“Fuck.” Vim’s hand had returned to own underwear, but this time he pulled his hard prick out, still lazily stroking himself. “Did you force your cock down his throat?”

“N-no he wanted it. And she was...playing with my chest and kissing me.”

“Soppy bastard.” Colin didn’t even flinch this time, still trying to stave off erupting too soon. “What did he look like? This bloke with your cock down his throat?”

“...Fair. Pale.”

Vim sneered at this and he stopped stroking himself, to snap Colin’s underwear. “You can say it Col.”

“I-I don’t…”

“You were dream fucking me, weren’t you?” Colin tried to protest again, but he shivered when he felt Vim’s hand push his own away, and replace it with his own. “You filthy little pervert. You were getting off to the thought of me giving you a blowie, weren’t ya?”

“Christ Alan.” Colin’s eyes were screwed shut. “It...I’m sorry...it really wasn’t you at first-”

“Yeah right.” The arrogance in Vim’s voice was doing nothing to dampen Colin’s arousal, especially since the relatively gentle pace he’d been going at was nothing compared to the guitar calloused, rough speed Vim was now approaching. “You like the idea of me on my knees, and choking me with your pathetic little load, don’t you, posh boy?”

The cruelty in his voice was offset by the fact the other man was now gently stroking the back of his neck. Ever since he’d shorn off his longer hair he’d found the area was especially sensitive and he felt like the contrast in stimulation had him a panting mess in Vim’s lap.

“It’d shut me up wouldn’t it? Stop me being so horrible to you all the time.” Vim leaned in close and licked a stripe up the side of Colin’s neck. “Well tough fucking luck, Col. If anyone belongs on their knees it’s you.”

“P-please Alan…”

“Please what? Know what? You’re always going on about being getting a bird to tie you down.” The guitarist sniggered when the mess of a bassist on his lap moaned like the tart they both knew he was. “How about I use your bloody bass strings to strap your down on this bed, and I’ll fuck you hard enough that every one of your stupid little dreams are about me doing this to you, every night, until you beg me to do it to you-”

It was too much for Colin and he came with a shout, his cum splattering over his boxers and landing over most of their stomachs.

He huffed, trying to get his breath back, trying to avoid looking Vim in the face. Though Vim wasn’t willing to let him get away with it. The hand that had been on the back of his neck squeezed suddenly, forcing Colin to look at the impossibly smug look Vim had on his face.

“Wot, you think you’re done?”

Colin blanched, and shakily moved to return the favour but Vim stopped him with another squeeze to his neck.

“Oh no, Col, I think I said what was goin’ to happen.” Vim sneered and slapped the other man’s ass impatiently. “ On your knees. On the floor.”

“You...you can’t be serious.” Colin chuckled nervously. “You said you were only interesting in wanking.”

“I also said I was only going to wank myself off, but then you had to get all sexy with it.” Vim slapped him again. “Come on you big tart, on your knees.” 

Colin found himself kneeling on one of his discarded pillows from earlier, Vim swinging his legs over the side of the bed, and Colin gulped as the blonde man’s cock bobbed in front of his face.

“I’ve never done this before.” Colin cringed at just how deep his voice had dropped. There was already the stirring of interest in little Colin, but he wasn’t twenty five anymore. Neither of them were. The evidence of this was in the gut Vim was now sporting. 

Not that stopped him being so flipping attractive that Colin felt his mouth watering at the steady flow of precum now dripping from Vim’s prick.

“If you say so.” Vim was apparently taking it as read that Colin was gay. “Neither have I. Not that I’m interested in swapping sexual history with you right now Col, I’m much more interested in you sucking me off.”

“I mean...It can’t be so different than going down on a girl.” Colin muttered. Not that he had ample supply of experience to draw on there either, but he’d done it a couple of times with a few girls. He saw Vim ready to sarcastically respond to that comment and he decided if there was anything that was going to shut the guitarist up, it’d be this.

He wet his lips and took Vim into his mouth, planting one hand on the other man’s back and the other sliding up Vim’s leg, settling on his upper thigh. He swirled his tongue around the head, vaguely remembering something about clits and cock heads being similar from some dusty old book he’d read back in public school that the lads in his dorm had passed around.

From the way Vim was swearing and bucking his hips, apparently the book had been on to something.

Tonguing his slit, he brought his hand up to work whatever wasn’t in his mouth, and he thrilled as the fair haired man gripped the back of his head and yanked at his short hair, cursing Colin for not taking him in deeper. But Colin held still, convinced he was going to get the other man back for the (enjoyable) humiliation from earlier.

He was certain that he was going to end up the victor here...but then Vim started talking.

“Fuck, Col, you know, maybe if you were as good at sucking cock as playing bass, maybe we’d actually get a decent record deal.”

He realized that glaring with a mouthful of cock was not the best way to get his annoyance across, and so he began to pull away, but his lapse in concentration only gave Vim the leeway to shove his cock in further. 

“Col, Col if you...if you only knew how fucking good you look right now.” Vim gulped and that sneer was back on his face. Colin’s eyes started watering at the effort to keep his mouth open, and Vim wiped the tears away all too gently, his other hand stroking the back of his neck.

“The only way you’d look better, is if you had all that fucking garbage on your face again.” Colin tried to swallow, and the action forced Vim further into his mouth, almost choking him. Vim’s grip tightened on his hair, his hips bucking against the back of his throat. Colin desperately tried to relax his throat, and mindlessly gripped onto Vim’s thigh and started palming at his own cock again. “I’d love to see you with tears streaming down your face, making all that fucking eyeliner and face paint run. I’d make you go up on stage like that. Then everyone would know what a filthy little tart you are. Would you like that Colin? Huh?”

Why was this turning him on so much?

“Because you’re a filthy little slut who likes being bossed around.” Vim grinned down at him, and against all odds, managed to clumsily press a kiss against Colin’s forehead. The contortion should have been impossible, but Vim managed it. “Don’t you? You like being bossed around and getting as much attention as possible?”

Colin couldn’t do much more than moan around Vim’s cock, and Vim swore, essentially fucking his throat now. Colin felt wonderfully used, and he reached up to squeeze Vim’s thighs in contentment.

And that’s when Vim hunched over, grunted and thick ropes of cum hit the back of Colin’s throat.

Vim pulled out then, watching as the last few spurts hit Colin’s tongue. Colin tried not to gag, but the taste was something of an acquired taste. He eyed the tiny bottles of large as he held the mess in his mouth, but thankfully, Vim shakily handed him his half drank larger to wash it down with.

Colin stood on shaking legs, and tumbled out of the room to the bathroom. He downed the rest of the now flat larger and chucked it into the bath. When he looked in the mirror he marvelled at just how wrecked he looked, He ripped his shirt off and swiped at his face and neck to clear himself of semen. He tucked himself back into his boxers, ignoring the faint stains there, then chucked his shirt into the bath too.

When he emerged back into the bedroom, he found Vim had stripped down too, but had starfished out onto the bed. Colin sneered. Bloody typical. Wake him up, use him to get off and then STILL hog the bed!?

With a resigned sigh he kicked his little nest of pillows back into vaguely the right shape it’d been. 

Just as he was about to get back into his pathetic makeshift bed, a pale hand shot out and pulled him onto the double. 

“What are you doing Alan?”

God his throat literally ached and he shuddered in Vim’s arms as he felt just how raw it was.

“Just shut up for once in your bloody life, Col.” Vim immediately wrapped himself around Colin, his beer gut pressing into the small of Colin’s back, his arms wrapped securely around his chest. Colin felt the scratch of stubble against the sensitive area the back of his neck. 

Colin lay there in the semi darkness, waiting for Vim’s breathing to even.

“I’m not gay, Vim.”

“I know.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. Neither am I.” There was a pause before he quietly admitted. “I think I might...be bi? But only about you.”

“Oh.” Colin wasn’t sure what to do with this.

“Col I’m sorry I’m such a prat around you all the time.” Vim huffed against his neck and Colin tried desperately not to shiver again. 

Colin was quiet as he turned this over his head. “...I might be bi as well.”

“Yeah your dream kinda gave that away. I liked the detail about the girl giving you nipple action. Might have to involve that in my next wank session, nice one.”

Snorting quietly with laughter, Colin felt Vim’s hand start to wander up in that particular direction, and he grabbed hold of his wrist. “Now don’t start that again.”

“Aw…”

“...next time.”

“Next time?” The hope in Vim’s voice made something warm settle in Colin’s chest.

“Yeah...next time.”


End file.
